How the Doctor really met Donna
by KillgarraghForever
Summary: One-shot inspired by Catherine Tate (Donna) and David Tennant (the Doctor)'s performance for Comic Relief 2009. I own nothing. This is set right after the Doctor says his final goodbye to Rose in s2 e10, and just before Donna materializes in the TARDIS. Enjoy!


**Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who or most of the dialogue in this fanfiction. It is property of the BBC. I do not own Lauren Cooper. she is owned by Catherine Tate. So, basically, anything you recognize, and a lot of the stuff you don't, I don't own. The only thing I own is my imagination.**

The Doctor hadn't been able to say goodbye to Rose properly. The supernova he had been using to communicate had exploded violently, and the split had closed. The Doctor hadn't counted on the sheer velocity of the explosion, and the TARDIS had been shot into space.

"No, no, no! Come on, come on, work!"

The TARDIS had warning lights flashing around the console room, and the Doctor grabbed the information screen, and had to double check that he had read the Glalifreyian right. It appeared that even if the split into the parallel universe Rose had been taken into was weak, the split was still quite large. According to the TARDIS, he had been sling-shot into another universe. This one was a bit less of a parallel universe, and more of an alternate one. _What if in this one, the Darleks won the Time War? _Thoughts like this one chased each other in the back of the Doctor's mind. The front of it was occupied with trying to figure out a way to recharge the TARDIS, who had died as soon as they had landed. Luckily, a power crystal still had a bit of juice left. But it would take at least a week to recharge enough to power the TARDIS out of this alternate universe.

"Oh, well," the Doctor thought aloud. "I might as well explore this universe while I'm here." He opened the TARDIS doors, and exited the dark space. The bright sun momentarily blinded him. Blinking the spots from his eyes, he looked around. He was on Earth, in England, by the looks of it. London, probably. The old girl did have a strange fondness for the human city. It was strange. _At least the Darleks haven't taken over,_ he thought optimistically, poking his tongue out. Hmm, 10th, no, _13th_ of March, 2009. 9 o'clock in the morning.

"Hello, sir, are you lost?" a voice asked him, sounding concerned. the Doctor jumped; he'd been so absorbed with the date and time that he hadn't noticed a young woman walking up to him.

"No, I'm fine, thank you," he answered, turning to face the woman talking to him and adopting a Scottish accent. She gave a little squeak, causing the Doctor to frown. "Are you okay, miss?" he asked. She nodded, staring at him with an expression of... recognition? Awe? She shuffled around, and after a pregnant pause, said:

"You're David Tennant."

He looked at her blankly. "Who?" he asked her, and she stared at him, shocked. And then her look became suspicious.

"Is this some kind of advertising for Doctor Who?" she asked suspiciously. He continued to look blankly at her.

"No. I'm not even sure what that is. Look, my name is..." he thought desperately. "Mickey. Mickey Logan." She looked at him suspiciously for a few moments more, but laughed after that.

"Oh. Okay, Mr... Mickey." She said, turning around. "Has anyone ever told you you look and sound exactly like David Tennant?" She asked, pausing in her retreat.

"No," the Doctor answered truthfully. He was rather confused about this whole thing, to be honest. _Who on Earth was this David Tennant person?_

"Well, you do!" she told him, then left, leaving a very confused Time Lord standing outside a Public Call Police Box from the 1960s.

* * *

It had been five days since the TARDIS had crashed into this alternate reality. The Doctor had decided to get a job as an English teacher in the local high school, to prove that Rose had been wrong, and he could get a job. _It can't be that hard,_ he thought, and it wasn't. All he had to do was explain Shakespeare, and, having met the man, it wasn't that hard. The school had had an English teacher already, but he had mysteriously won the lottery the day after the Doctor had crashed. Funny, that.

Anyway, today he was teaching about Shakespeare's sonnets to a class containing the infamous Lauren Cooper. The Doctor returned from the staff room to find all of the students in their seats. He walked over to his desk and put down his briefcase, checking his sonic screwdriver was in his pocket as he did so. He opened the briefcase, searching for the textbook, and discretely scanning the class for on Lauren Cooper. The Doctor thought that one teenage girl couldn't be _that_ much of a problem, but, then again, he hadn't thought Jackie would be able to slap him that hard. His fingers grasped the textbook, and he drew it out.

"Good morning," he greeted, putting on a Scottish accent.

"Alright?" the class replied in unison. Weird. He shrugged it off, continuing.

"As I'm sure you're aware, my name is Mr. Logan, and I'm your new English teacher. Nice to meet you all," the Doctor continued, using the false name he had given the young woman who had greeted him when he first arrived. The Doctor spotted a red haired girl in the back of the class not paying attention. _Ah, well. It's her education. _"I hope you're all ready to get to grips with some Elizabethan literature," he continued. "Let's all turn to page 53 in our poetry textbooks," he instructed, brandishing said textbook, and flipping it open in his hand. "I think we'll dive straight in with the bard himself," the Doctor said, remembering the time he met William Shakespeare. Brilliant man, he was. The Doctor had told him a bit about an alien planet, and, as a result, _A Midsummer Night's Dream_ was born.

"Sir," the redhead at the back said, gaining his attention.

"Yeah?" he questioned.

"Are you English, sir?" she asked, and he turned to look at the poetry book, searching for page 53.

"No, I'm Scottish," he replied.

"So you ain't English, then?" she asked repetitively.

"No, I'm British," he explained again.

"So you ain't English then?" This girl was starting to get on his nerves.

"No, I'm not, but, as you can see, I do speak English."

"But I can't understand what you're saying, sir." _Well, obviously you can,_ he thought.

"Well, clearly you can," he said.

"I'm sorry, are you talking Scottish now?" she asked, and for some reason, she was waving her hands in front of her.

"No, I'm talking English," he said as calmly as he could.

"Right," she commented. "Don't sound like it." The Doctor got up and walked to the middle of the classroom while answering her dismissively.

"Okay, whatever you want." He addressed the class, speaking loudly. "Now, let's get on with Shakespeare." The redhead spoke up again.

"I don't think you're qualified to teach us English," she accused, and the Doctor smirked inwardly. Of course he wasn't, but he wasn't about to tell her that.

"I am perfectly qualified to teach you English," he explained, sitting on his desk again.

"I don't think you are, though."

"You don't have to be English to _teach _it," he said.

"Right. Have we got double _English _or double _Scottish_?" she asked patronizingly. The Doctor internally groaned, and outwardly stared at the redhead, pieces clicking into place to form a picture he didn't really like.

"Is your name Lauren Cooper, by any chance?" he asked, knowing the answer.

"Yeah," she answered, head tilted to the side a little. "Why?"

"Your reputation precedes you," the Doctor explained, looking at her in realization. That explained why she had been so insufferable all lesson.

"Done it, though," she said, almost unintelligibly.

"So, Shakespeare's sonnets," the Doctor said, trying to stop Lauren from talking.

"Sir?" she interrupted. The Doctor ignored her.

"A sonnet is a poem,"

"Sir?"

"written in 14 lines,"

"Sir?"

"the last two of which,"

"Sir?"

"must form,"

"Sir?"

"a rhyming couplet," the Doctor finished.

"Sir?" Lauren repeated for the umpteenth time, raising her hand.

"Yes, Lauren?" the Doctor gave in, knowing he was fighting a loosing battle.

"Can I ask you a question?" she asked.

"Not just now," the Doctor told her.

"Can I ask you a question now?" she repeated, waving her hands again.

"Just wait."

"But can I just ask you a question? I just wanna ask you a question; can't I ask you a question? I'm just asking you a question. Can I ask you a question?" she asked. _Well, you've already asked me five questions,_ the Doctor thought.

"What is it?" he asked her. Her question shocked him.

"Are you the Doctor?" she asked. He did his best to look confused.

"Doctor who?" he asked, basing his performance on his companion's reactions when he told them his name. Lauren and her friend whooped and high-fived. The Doctor was genuinely confused as to why they would react like that now. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You look like Doctor Who, though!" she exclaimed, pointing at him.

"I'm not Doctor Who, I'm your English teacher!" the Doctor denied, now genuinely confused as to how on Earth they knew who he was.

"I don't think you are, though," Lauren protested.

"Lauren," the Doctor interrupted, but Lauren continued full steam ahead.

"I think you're a 945 year old Time Lord," she accused. _What?!_ the Doctor thought. _How in Rassilion's name does she know how old I am? And my species?_

"Listen," he interrupted again, not showing any signs of his confusion. Lauren continued.

"Did you just pitch up from Mars?" she asked, gesturing at the sky.

"Don't be ridiculous," he protested.

"You know your house, right?" she asked, tracing a square in the air in front of her.

"What?" the Doctor asked, letting his confusion show on his face.

"You know your house?" she repeated.

"Yeah," he replied, lying. He didn't have a house, but normal humans did so he played along after Lauren asked again.

"Is it bigger on the inside?" she asked. _How does she know about the bigger-on-the-inside thing?_

"Be quiet," he ordered. She was starting to freak him out now.

"Did you park the TARDIS on a meter?" she asked him. The Doctor blanched: _how does she know about my TARDIS? Or any of this stuff?_

"Can we _please_ get back to Shakespeare?" he asked, leaning forward as he did so. Lauren sat back down, made an odd noise, and folded her arms. "Thank you. So," he began before he was rudely interrupted again.

"Do you fancy Billie Piper, sir?" she asked. That was the final straw. The Doctor had had it with her interruptions, and he didn't even know who this 'Billie Piper' person was. He got up, slamming the poetry book down on his desk.

"Right," he started. "You are the most INSOLENT child I've ever had the misfortune to teach," the Doctor told her, borrowing the line off of one of his Academy teachers.

"Thank you," Lauren thanked calmly. To be fair, that is what the Doctor had done back in the Academy.

"You're pointless, repetitious, and _extremely _dull," he finished. He was not prepared for her comeback, and lost his cool right there and then, in an alternate dimension, for a high school student.

"A bit like Shakespeare," she said.

"You're not even worthy to mention his name. William Shake- William Shakespeare was a genius! You, _little madame_, are definitely not. Now, just sit there, keep your mouth shut, or I'll fail you in this whole module right now!" the Doctor threatened, jabbing a ginger at Lauren, who didn't look the least bit concerned. She made that odd noise again, and leaned forward, holding her hands up in mock-surrender.

"Amist I bover-ed?" she asked in a horrible impression of Shakespearean English. The Doctor stared at her incredulously.

"What?" he asked.

"Amist I bover-ed, forsooth?" she asked, again in the horrible impression.

"Lauren," the Doctor said, not expecting it to do anything to stop the redhead from talking.

"Lookith at my face," she instructed, pointing at it.

"I don't..." the Doctor tried again, but Lauren plowed on.

"Lookith at my face!"

"Stop it."

"Is this the bover-ed face that sits before thee?"

"Right, I'm calling your parents!" the Doctor stated, fed up with this girl's antics. She decided to use his statement as ammunition, however.

"ARE YOU DISRESPECTING THE HOUSE OF COOPER?!" she accused.

"No," he dissuaded, shaking his head.

"Art thou calling my mother a pox-ridden wench?"

"Enough."

"Art thou calling my farther a goodly rotten apple?"

"Lauren..."

"But he ain't even a goodly rotten apple," she protested. Her friend shook her head at the Doctor. He glared at the pair of them.

"Listen to me," the Doctor tried again.

"But he ain't even a goodly rotten apple, though!" she repeated.

"That's enough."

"Face-ith,"

"Lauren."

"Bover-ed."

"Lauren..."

"Lookith!"

"Lauren."

"Lookith!"

"Stop." he ordered, making a 'cease' gesture.

"My liege,"

"That's enough,"

"My liege, my liege,"

"No,"

"Face-ith, bover-ed,"

"Stop."

"Face-ith, bover-ed."

"Right, that's it!"

"You take the high road and I'll take the low road," she said in a surprisingly good Scottish accent. "I ain't bovered!" The Doctor stopped protesting as it was a waste of breath and settled for glaring at the insolent child in front of him. He suddenly felt sorry for his Academy teachers. "I ain't bovered! Look, face, bovered, bover-ed, face, bover-ed, I ain't even bover-ed," -what he would give to be back in the TARDIS right now- "My liege, I be not bover-ed, forsooth," The Doctor held up a hand n a futile attempt to stop the torrent of words pouring from Lauren Cooper's mouth. "I be not bover-ed! Face, bovered, I ain't bovered, face, bovered. Shakespeare, sonnets," the Doctor tried and failed to stop her again, "I ain't bovered!" Then something truly extraordinary happened.

"My mistress's eyes are nothing like the sun, coral is more red than her lips red, if snow be white, why then her breasts are done, if hair be wires, then black wires grow on her head, I have seen roses amethyst, red and white, but no such roses see I in her cheeks, and in some perfume is there more delight, than in the breath that from my mistress reeks, I love to hear her speak, yet I know that music have a far more pleasing sound, I grant I never saw a goddess, though my mistress when she walks treads on the ground, and yet by heaven I think my love is rare, as any boy besides cannot compare." Lauren Cooper recited one of Shakespeare's sonnets perfectly while smirking. The Doctor stared at her in surprise and disbelief. Lauren finished with a: "Bite me, alien boy!" and slapping the table in front of her. She then leaned back in her chair, while she and her friend smirked at the Doctor.

_I really didn't want to have to use this setting, _thought the Doctor as her turned away from Lauren and pulled out his sonic screwdriver. His mouth became a thin, angry line as he pointed the screwdriver at Lauren, pressing the button. the end lit up blue. The air around Lauren shimmered, and her friend looked utterly shocked at what was going on. When the shimmering stopped, where Lauren was a moment ago was... was that a Rose Tyler action figure?! The Doctor put his screwdriver back in his pocket, and sat back down on his desk.

"That's better," he said as he did so. Then he had a bright idea. "A rose by any other name would smell as sweet," he quipped. The class were still staring at the Rose figure.

"I still ain't bovered!" the action figure squeaked, and the Doctor smiled.

"Now," he said, drawing the attention back to himself. "Can we _please _get on with Shakespeare?"

* * *

After the lesson, he changed Lauren back to her human form.

"Don't mess around with your teachers," he warned. "You don't know what they could have up their sleeves."

Lauren took no notice as she sauntered towards the door.

"Ah, not so fast!" he said, and locked the door with the sonic. He then wiped their memories of the lesson's events, and sent them off. _I better mot have her class again._

* * *

3 days later, the power crystal had finished recharging, and the Doctor wandered back to the TARDIS, plugged in the crystal, and promptly flew out of that universe and into his. Thank Rassillion that was over. He materialized exactly 5 minutes after the supernova had exploded, and promptly collapsed on the console. The TARDIS gave him a reassuring hum. A few seconds later, he noticed a woman in a wedding dress. Standing in his TARDIS. While she was in flight. "What?" he said aloud. The woman whirled around, and the Doctor was greeted with someone who looked like an older version of that Lauren Cooper girl from the dimension he was stuck in for the past week. And all he could say was one word.

"What?"


End file.
